


Naydra's Lament

by SylverFletcher



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Feel-good, Gen, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm still mad you can't actually pet the dragons, Link befriends the giant puppy, Self-Indulgent, how do I even tag this, purely written to fight the game mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 00:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylverFletcher/pseuds/SylverFletcher
Summary: Link had traveled all across Hyrule. He'd seen the dragons, he knew they were there, but it took him far too long to question why there were only two. When he searches for the last one, his heart is torn for the state he finds it in.





	Naydra's Lament

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so I've given up my life for this game (or about 105 hours so far and counting) and in my playthrough, I was a ditz and didn't bother exploring Mount Lanayru and when I finally googled why the frick there wasn't a third dragon I found out Naydra was up there and then I went there to save it and I felt SO BAD because I left it up there all that time and also I'm still mad you can't actually pet it and I just want it to be my friend
> 
> and yes  
> I did forget to take the perfect picture of it for my encyclopedia thing

He could hear it long before he ever saw it.

Even from the base of the mountain, far away from where it could possibly be realistically picked up even by his sensitive ears, it was almost as if he could  _ feel _ it inside himself, echoing within his soul like a tragic song.

Now, hearing the cried agony swirling with the wind, Link knew he  _ could _ feel it. If only by a sense of empathy, hearing the pained cries, something in his chest constricted.

A strange form of guilt pulled at him, tugging his emotions down even deeper than his boots in the snow. If only he’d known, or come sooner. He distinctly remembered, that first week within waking up, looking up at Mount Lanayru and deciding against adventuring to its top.

There wouldn’t be anything up there, he’d told himself. It was just a spring he could visit later, he told himself.

He should have known better.

He should have come and checked, at least.

Especially considering Farosh was the first thing he encountered upon leaving the Plateau, the yellow-green beast of a spirit giving him more than a startling welcome back to the realm of the living. Though he had no memory of the great dragons, somehow he just knew by looking upon the peaceful being that there were others.

It wasn’t much later he’d encountered Dinraal, either. But after that, there was nothing. It took him far too long to realize one was missing, after his travels across the map.

Now, finally, the hero looked up as the snowstorm cleared from the mountain peak, and Naydra’s twisted and corrupted form could be seen clinging to the rocks. Its scales a sickening purple, and those agonized cries still rattling the air and making Link’s heart twist. How long had it been here like this, trapped and tortured, its entire existence nothing more than pure pain?

He really hoped it hadn’t been for the entire 100 years, and yet, part of him knew it had.

Naydra’s head was half resting, half hung limply over the shrine, its eyes glazed and unfocused and its breath coming in heaving gasps. Around its neck, a twisting mass of Calamity acted as if it couldn’t decide whether to possess the beast or strangle it. Mentally chanting a mantra of apologies and empathy, Link stared far longer than strictly necessary at the poor tortured soul. Finally, after a particularly harsh and gut wrenching cry of anguish tore his heart in two for the spring guardian, Link drew his bow.

The arrow flew straight and true with perfect aim, landing dead center in the creepy eyeball sticking out of the poisonous goop on Naydra’s neck. It splattered and split apart in a shower of magic sparks, and the dragon spirit startled with the weakening of its proverbial shackles. With a swear, though, Link watched it rise up in a panicked fit and start flying around the mountain top, trying again in vain to outrun the evil infection clinging into its own body.

How long had it done exactly that, long ago, before exhausting itself to the state he’d found it? He didn’t want to know.

He pictured it anyway. The majestic beast, tortured with agony and trying desperately for  _ years _ to escape, to no avail, and no hope for anyone to help.

Shaking his head, the paraglider was brought out and caught the updrafts caused by the beast’s thrashing. Soon he was high in the snowy sky alongside Naydra, who was still so out of sorts it wasn’t aware enough to even know he was there. So carefully, mindful of what was essentially a cornered wild animal in pain but also the size of a mountain and with magical powers and also immortal, Link drifted through the air alongside it, shooting arrows at the dark evil plaguing it.

He cringed and the guilt spiked again when he missed and an arrow embedded itself firmly into Naydra’s scales, but it didn’t seem to notice at all. How bad was the pain of the Calamity, then, that an arrow didn’t even register to it? Link knew, to a point. He’d accidentally touched the stuff before, once. He’d also stepped in lava over on Death Mountain once and that was a walk in the park by comparison. The diseased dark magic burned like fire and acid at once, and clung to everything it touched like solidified liquid metal.

And Naydra had been coated in it, drowned in it, possessed by it, for decades. An inescapable skin of constant burning agony.

With resolved determination, and a particularly strong draft taking Link high above the dragon spirit, he put away the paraglider and put everything he had into one shot, into the last mass of evil clinging to the beast’s thrashing, waving tail.

 

* * *

 

 

The clouds broke, the snow ceasing and the sun slipping through. It was warm, and dully, he wondered if the sun had shined here at all for all these years.

Then his senses snapped back, and Link jolted upright. He’d landed in the spring itself, though it wasn’t nearly deep enough to break a fall from that height, he didn’t feel injured whatsoever. His back was now facing the shrine, the mountain top, and slowly, he turned.

Naydra was coiled around the mountain again, but this time it was comfortably, and it had returned to a healthy sparkling blue color. The great beast blinked slowly, staring at him. When all he did was stare back, it huffed.

Oh, right. It caught him and broke his fall, didn’t it?

It blinked again, as if answering his unspoken question.

Overtaken suddenly by a strong sense of wonder, he gazed up at it longer, only now fully realizing the majesty of the beast. Bright blue claws held gracefully onto the mountain, not even digging into the snow as it poised both relaxed and ready to leap away at the same time, something he was sure only a hand of the Goddess like the dragons could accomplish. As he looked it over, longer and longer, Naydra loomed its head closer to him, close enough to puff hot dragon breath over his face.

He didn’t flinch, or back away. Farosh and Dinraal were both neutral to his presence, uninterested in being aggressive, and part of him was sure Naydra would be the same. Besides, if it hadn’t liked him, it could have just let him fall to his death a moment ago.

It nudged closer, again, and bonked his chest with the tip of its snout, as if demanding attention. His hands caught the scales there purely by instinct to keep his balance, and the huge creature rumbled, almost seeming as if it was laughing at him. There was a sparkle in its eyes now, so different from the empty look it had had previously, the look of something that fought, lost, and gave up. No, this look was much more lively, the eyes of a proud god of the sky freed from its prison.

Or just the eyes of a mischievous spirit, he thought, as it shoved again and sent him sprawling into the water. The rumbling sounded again, and its head swayed from the force, and now Link was convinced it was laughing at him. He pulled a face at it.

After a moment, the amusement seemed to drain from the dragon, and he saw nothing but pure gratefulness where it had been. Again the huge snout drifted toward him, pressing gently but insistently against his front, and when he held onto it, it lifted him back to his feet. Naydra didn’t pull away once he was upright, either, allowing him to keep his hands on its scales.

And really, who wouldn’t?

Farosh was too fast, or surrounded in too many storms, for him to ever get close enough to touch it. And with Dinraal, he didn’t dare, the way that body glowed with the power of fire, a gleaming beacon of tempt known as a bad idea. But Naydra was different; maybe because it was weak from its struggle, or maybe because it was grateful he saved it, or maybe it had just taken a liking to him. Whatever the reasoning, its scales weren’t frigid cold and impossible to touch, they were pleasantly cool like a breeze on a spring day. Besides, actual physical capability aside, getting to actually basically pet one of the legendary dragons was a mystical experience, one Link didn’t think he would soon forget.

The dragon blinked at him, giving a very gentle nudge of its head, and he couldn’t help but imagine it saying “You mean unlike literally all of your other memories?”

Whether or not he should be concerned about how he seemed to be having an imaginary conversation with a magical beast spirit that no one else could see, he’d worry about later.

Finally, Link gave a final, firm stroke of its nose, and stepped back. Naydra’s head retreated back up to its proper height, gazing down at him in silent appreciation, before it looked toward the heavens and pushed from the mountain with its enormous claws. Link watched it go, tilting his head back further as it gracefully cascaded upwards, getting smaller the further up it went. Even as its body started to disappear into the clouds, he could feel warmth throughout the frigid mountain spring, as if the spirit’s gratitude had solidified into the very air around him.

Once the very tip of its tail had vanished from sight, and the clouds cleared from above, leaving nothing but empty skies for as far as the eye could see, Link’s wonderment faded all at once with another swear.

 

He forgot to take a picture of it.


End file.
